They knew his name but none of the shame.
What friends did he have but pills and misery?
What did he write but suicide notes?
Who talked to him but the voices in his head?
Day and day out, masking the terrible lifestyle
An impressive façade
Subtle cries for help ignored
Outward cries rejected
Deeper and deeper he crawled
Burrowing deep within himself
Hiding even the most basic parts of himself
Afraid to offend, afraid to stand out
Afraid to truly be alive
YOU ARE READING
Night Writes
PoetryA collection of poetry in alphabetical order written throughout the worst period(s) of my life. This may never be added to or edited again. I only seem inspired when I'm at death's door.
